


Temptations

by slothinsocks



Series: Maul’s Infatuation [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Maul Needs a Hug, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Smut, Maul being a complete hoe, Maulmara, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, bathing together, soft maul, this is sinful and sweet at the same time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothinsocks/pseuds/slothinsocks
Summary: Darth Maul was never a man to care about feelings — until he does.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Maul’s Infatuation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893727
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	Temptations

**Author's Note:**

> If you don’t like smut, don’t read this part. I went overboard with the fluff & smut, but y’all know how it goes! ANYWAY.

“Amara?” 

A familiar voice removed her from her thoughts, her head craning enough to spot Breha Organa. The older woman was smiling, carrying a basket within her arms. Amara had decided to stay home — a day without politics and a day without boring meetings. Bail had opted to go in her stead and cover anything she missed, thankfully. Sometimes, she needed a break from it all. 

Amara had spent a good portion of her day with his wife, Breha. She was a wonderful woman, a kindly soul with gentle eyes. Having lost her own mother at a young age, she certainly felt a paternal bond between them. Bail and Breha were the parents she’d never had, but secretly wished that they had been her own all along. Of course, one could never choose their family or what they were born into. 

“Bail should be back soon for dinner, if you intend on joining us.” Breha smiled, finally gaining Amara’s attention. The girl was a bit distracted, she could tell — whenever evening fell, Amara acted excited, as if she were keeping something hidden. Maybe she would talk to Bail about it while Amara was away. 

“Oh! Wonderful, I’m a bit famished.” Amara mused, softly clearing her throat. “I think I’m going to go change into something comfortable, if you’ll excuse me.” She smiled, politely tipping her head before excusing herself to her chambers. The doors shut behind her, and Amara peered towards the balcony. It wasn’t quite time for Maul to show. 

The pair had spent the day around Coruscant — enjoying the luxury and beauty of the gardens at the base of the Senate building, having a moment for themselves. Amara was excited about the new gown she’d gotten, and there was one man on her mind who might share in her giddiness. 

Breha had asked her about the intricacies and secrets of romance and relationships, and as a married woman, she liked to be nosy. Amara didn’t give anything away — she didn’t want anyone to know about Maul. He was something special to her, and such information fell into the wrong hands, he might leave. The last thing she wanted was for him to disappear. The thought of losing Maul was too much to handle. 

The Zabrak was the most beautiful man she’d ever met, and despite what others might think regarding his physicality, Amara was very infatuated with him. He was so protective, soft when he wanted to be, and his humor was impeccable, most of the time. He was special — she’d told him that several times before, but he always liked to brush it aside and not believe a word she spoke. 

There was no other man who could ensnare her thoughts and her heart like Maul could. He was aware of his charm and the effect he had upon her, though he was never directly verbal about it. The more time they’d spent in-secret together, the more she began to realize that he was important to her. Sometimes, he would appear with injuries or seem hostile, always vague about what happened. Amara thought that it could’ve been the Jedi, considering his affiliations.

Whatever happened, he would return to her, she hoped. 

Amara moved toward the sleek vanity at one side of her quarters, pulling open one of the chromium drawers. Her hand gently graced the gossamer material of her new evening gown — long-sleeved, a dip in the neckline, and made out of a lavender fabric that faded into a deep, royal violet. She always loved the more vibrant colors — shades of yellow, pink and purple. 

The robes she often wore around during the daytime were heavy and a little excessive at times. Amara much preferred the softness and lighter weight of her evening gowns. Each of them were so unique in coloration and design. She was always the sort to prefer feminine clothing — a good dress was her friend, in her eyes. 

Removing the woven fabric from off her shoulders, Amara gently nudged the gaudy robe aside, slipping into her purple gown, instead. It was already comfortable — a feeling of relief. Pushing her hair out from underneath the neckline, she adjusted her gown accordingly, amulet and all. Amara smiled into the mirror, fixing bits of unruly, golden hair into place. He would like this, wouldn’t he? 

Sighing, Amara decided to abandon her fixations for now. Her stomach churned and lurched from hunger, making her realize that it was best to have dinner and come back to this later. Picking up her robes, she neatly folded them to place back within one of the empty drawers.

By the time she made it to dinner, Bail was already seated. Amara immediately took a seat so as to not feel awkward, softly clearing her throat in the process. “How did the meetings go?” She asked. It was important to seem at least somewhat invested. 

In truth, politics had become a bit boring to her, and it made her reflect on what she really wanted to do. She was afraid to admit that to Bail, but she was sure that he picked up on her disinterest. Amara had always been incredibly talented at art, but with her current predicament, it was nearly impossible to paint. She settled for crude drawings in a book that sat upon her nightstand, instead. 

“Well enough. The Chancellor asked where you were, and I told him you needed a personal day.” Bail began to eat, peering up at Amara to catch her reaction. Palpatine had taken a liking to her — this new position wasn’t one that just anyone could receive. There was something in-store for her. 

“He did?” Amara asked through mouthfuls of food, ogling the hearty slices of cake situated at the opposite end of the table. It surprised her that the Chancellor would ask. She knew that this all had something to do with being her father’s daughter. If she wasn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered.

“Indeed.” Bail didn’t say much else on the matter for now. Breha had mentioned something to him of her antics when the evenings came around, though he tried to pass them off as the antics of someone who was a bit more nocturnal than they were. Or, Amara could’ve been sneaking out to see someone — either way, she was an adult and it wasn’t any of their business. He was concerned, but Bail knew that if Amara had an issue, she would come and discuss it with him. 

Amara didn’t feel the need to ask questions. Shifting within her seat, she hurried and ate this time, though left decent portions untouched. She didn’t like the bitter beans they were served — a horrible aftertaste. She didn’t want that. Instead, her attention focused on the cake. She wondered if Maul would like such a delicacy. Amara had never seen him eat before, and he’d never spoken about it, either. 

“Not as hungry?” Breha mused, motioning toward her plate. “Not to sound like a glutton, but I’ll eat the beans.” The woman chuckled, and watched as Amara scooted her plate in that direction. Bail flashed a smile, peering toward Amara yet again with a look of curiosity. 

“I am more invested in this cake, to tell you the truth.” Amara stood, weaving around the table toward the platter of fresh, iced cake. Whilst the pair weren’t looking, she smuggled another fork into her gowns, seafoam hues fluttering ahead. “Goodnight, Breha, Bail. If you'll excuse me.” She nodded, plate in-hand. Before any questions could be asked of her, she made her way from the dining room and into the safety of her corridor.

She felt guilty for keeping them in the dark, but it was better this way. If she endangered Maul and ruined his secrecy, she would never forgive herself. Amara sighed, quickly slipping through the silvery doors. Only this time, she activated the panel to keep them locked and made sure the sensors outside were in-order. Amara preferred to not be disturbed tonight. 

Maul was waiting for her, lingering near the balcony, amidst the drawn curtains. The familiar, thick cloak had been neatly draped across the back of a plush chair. He sensed her soothing presence, able to feel that rage stop and cease for a moment. Anger was what fueled the Zabrak — anger and hatred, always. It was different with Amara, it was a welcome change to feel relaxation, however slight it was. Even amidst a war, being within a den of enemies, Amara’s chambers had become something of a sanctuary to him. 

He turned, though she wasn’t facing him quite yet. The Zabrak’s mouth nearly hung agape when he glimpsed her wearing such an attractive gown. Typically, her gowns were billowing and loose, but this one seemed to hug every curve of her physique just right. The fabric accentuated the dip of her hips, the subtle curve of her breasts … He became enamored. Maul felt his skin creep with warmth, yellow irises fixating upon her, especially whilst her back was facing him. She was absolutely breathtaking, ravishingly beautiful — a beacon of light beyond any comparison. It made his twin hearts beat faster, exhilarating as ever. How did she expect him to behave? 

Amara gently placed the cake atop her nightstand, unraveling the spare fork from the waves of her gown, setting them beside the ornate plate. Dusting her hands off, she finally whirled around to face Maul, who was staring at her with such a searing intensity. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, which was exposed with that diving tunic he wore around. 

“Hello, Maul.” She beamed, dimples forming at either corner of her mouth. The golden-haired girl watched as Maul approached, arms lowering from his chest. He neared her, close enough to touch, though made no forward movements. Instead, he sniffed the air, hues flickering toward the cake she’d brought with her. 

“Amara,” Maul smirked, pointing towards the pastry. He consumed plenty of food wherever he could find it. During his days in the caves, he consumed raw meat, mostly. His teeth were capable of tearing through it, and his digestive system didn’t seem to mind. The Zabrak wasn’t a picky eater — he would consume anything and everything. “You’ve brought a snack.” He sneered. 

“Oh! The cake,” Amara seemed happy that he noticed. She plucked the plate off of her nightstand, sitting down upon her bed. Maul followed suit, with or without an invitation. He sprawled back, lounging across the made bed with a playful grin. It was nice to see him this way — sly and in higher spirits. Amara lounged with him, the cake placed between them. “For you.” She extended a fork in his direction.

“What is this?” Maul scoffed, nearly rolling his eyes. He flicked at the fork, turning it around within his hand once or twice. “Sharpen it enough, it would make a good shiv.” He smirked, noticing the rosy pallor rise within her cheeks. Whenever he did something that sparked a reaction from her, he prided himself on doing it again. Her blush was far more delectable than any slice of fancy cake. 

Amara snickered, deciding to take the first bite. However, she occasionally caught him looking back to her gown with vast intrigue. It made her flustered, skin heating up with embarrassment. Of course, she knew that he could detect at least some of what she felt. He was an extremely powerful Sith — Maul would know, even if she didn’t admit to it.

“So,” He began, watching her take a bite. “You must indulge my curiosity. Is there a special occasion I must’ve missed?” Maul nearly purred, though he didn’t eat any cake just yet. He enjoyed watching Amara far more than anything else — her reactions, fluctuations, coloration flourishing within her cheeks … It was all very attractive. “You look divine.” His voice softened a touch at that.

“O-Oh, no,” Amara began, gently shaking her head. “I just thought that you could enjoy something sweet. Thank you.” Blushing again, her visage broke into a compassionate smile afterward, throat clearing too. “Is that okay?” She whispered. 

Maul’s irises remained glued to her, their gazes locked together. Whereas his was intense, as if it could burn through her, Amara’s eyes reflected a bit of nervousness and anticipation. She was worried about disappointing him, most likely. Her gesture was nothing but thoughtful and sweet to him, a sign that she was thinking about him more often than he thought. 

“Your consideration of me is most sincere and kind.” Maul replied, his visage remaining passive and stoic. There was the faintest hint of a smile, but it was barely present. He was not a man who revealed himself so easily — the feeling of vulnerability wasn’t a pleasant one. However, Amara brought out a softer side to him that he thought he’d killed long ago. To know that it was merely dormant was something else. 

His soothing words left Amara smiling. Despite how rough and husky Maul was, he had a strangely beautiful voice. It was so incredibly unique, to hear only a snippet of it was always enough for her. He hadn’t touched the cake, and had abandoned his fork moments ago. Not even pastries could tempt the Zabrak, it seemed. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Amara prodded, swiping a generous glob of thick icing from the top of the cake. She didn’t care much for the other portions, but frosting was always so delicious to her. She used to get in trouble for sticking her fingers into her mother’s baking back home.

“Mm,” A deep rumble formed within Maul’s chest. His next gesture nearly knocked the wind out of Amara’s lungs, effectively stealing her breath away. He reached forward with a leather-clad palm, closing it around her dainty wrist. He remained eerily silent this time. There was a brief caress before he brought her hand closer to him. All the while, those yellow irises ogled her to see her reaction and how she might perceive his vulgarities. Maul brought her index finger to his dark lips, and in a graceful, deliberate movement, slipped the digit into his mouth. 

Amara gulped, lips hanging slightly agape as a gasp escaped her. Her face had gone from rosy and pinkish to a vibrant scarlet, her breath hitching within her throat. It was as if the world had gone still, and the only noise had been her erratic, uneven breathing and Maul’s greedy little suckling noises. The blush had spread as far as her ears and flush across her collarbone, sending tremors up the length of her spine. She never imagined this happening, not in her lifetime, and her mind became consumed with lewd thoughts that were entirely unbecoming. 

Maul’s gaze never wavered, never faltered. It was predatory and possessive, and she felt his rough tongue worm against her skin. It was a strange sensation, the warmth of his mouth, but thrilling and arousing all at the same time. Those yellow irises had a sense of mischief to them, as if he knew exactly how she’d react. His teeth grazed along the pad of her fingertip, almost sharp enough to puncture, if he wanted. He could smell her again — it was intoxicating. He noticed her other hand curling into the sheets as if he wouldn’t see such things … 

What else could he do to make her squirm?

At last, he released her finger from his maw, his gaze nothing short of lustful. He pressed a chaste kiss against the pad of her fingertip, still holding onto her wrist. Amara couldn’t detect it completely, but it was as if the atmosphere had shifted to an extreme degree. Whatever playfulness had lingered before was squashed and thrown aside. There was heat between them, tension — Maul’s eyes looked brighter now in the dim lighting than ever before. 

“Delicious,” The Zabrak crooned, “And so quiet,” Maul murmured, noticing her dumbfounded expression. He knew what it would do to her, but his motives were clear, now — he desired her in a way that he hadn’t desired another woman. Intimacy was sacred and special for his people, and even if he’d defiled tradition before, he wouldn’t abandon it for Amara. “Amara,” His voice lowered into a husky growl, though it was entirely non-threatening. 

Whenever he said her name, it was as if time stood still. She had difficulty focusing on anything else but him. During her stupor, he’d completely moved the plate aside, abandoning their would-be snack. The golden-haired girl suddenly crashed into him with a fervor that surprised Maul greatly, but gods, did it make him want her so desperately. He was craving her — tasting her upon his tongue, her sickly-sweet scent drowning away any logic or sensibility from his mind. 

Her plush, soft lips pressed passionately against his mouth, small hands clasping around the back of his neck. Maul growled into her mouth, hands clamoring to grip at the curve of her hip. Yet, any thoughts of roughness or a desire to claim her then and there seemed foolish. What good would it do if he didn’t savor this, savor her? The Zabrak was pleased, however, whenever he felt her hands grasp at his horns. There was satisfaction to be felt in knowing that his horns did not hinder Amara.

Maul had to break away, even if it was just a moment. “Starlight,” He muttered, adopting that endearing nickname on the fly. He was able to hear her heartbeat fluttering close by. It was quick, though entirely normal considering their circumstances. 

Amara seemed receptive to such a sweet name. It filled her heart with unimaginable joy, her cheeks still as red as the sheets they were laying upon. Maul held her close, yellow irises never leaving her visage. It was a look of infatuation intermingled with desire, and the Zabrak was determined to stake his claim. The lower light danced across her skin in a hauntingly beautiful way, gown lopsided from their actions. 

“You have bewitched me,” Maul’s voice was a tender growl, a beautiful baritone that gave her goosebumps. “Body and soul.” The Zabrak uttered, brushing one hand through her golden tresses. He held her close, pressing a series of kisses along her delicate jawline, allowing himself to drown within her presence. He would’ve done anything that she asked of him. 

Touched by his words, Amara almost didn’t know how to properly respond. “I need you, Maul.” Her sweet, tender tone of voice had just barely carried, though with the silence of her chambers, Maul could hear her perfectly. “I’ve never done this before,” She admitted, albeit sheepishly. She felt his strong hand drift against her hips, moving her off of him for a moment. 

“Not to worry.” He crooned, backing off of the bed. Maul needed to stand, undress her and himself. He wanted to take this slow — for both of their sakes. The mere sight of her sprawled across the crimson sheets in that mauve gown made him shiver with delight. He had fantasized about this very moment for a good while, now. Maul could simply not see himself doing this with another being — she was captivating.

The Zabrak peeled his tunic away, letting the garment drop to the flooring. He was such an incredible display of strength and prowess, muscles tensing and working whenever he moved. It was more of a saunter as he stalked toward her, hovering over the edge of the bed. Maul stooped down to kiss her, teeth grazing across her lower lip. Their heated exchange lasted for quite awhile, though he was eager to give Amara everything — whatever she desired from him.

Maul’s hands clamped into her plush thighs, dragging her toward the edge of the bed. Her gown had ridden up enough to let him see everything. However, it would be quite the nuisance if she’d left it on … He would let her keep it for now. Amara looked too beautiful in the garment to just let it go to waste. Standing in between her legs, his sharp fingers traced underneath her chin. He kissed her once more, feeling her hand skim along his tattooed torso. 

Amara was surprised when he knelt before her, as a servant would before a noble. He was no longer taller than her, which made her smile involuntarily, but there was something tempting about seeing Maul nestled between her thighs. Her hands cupped either side of his face, thumbs caressing along his handsome jawline. “You are perfect,” She whispered, listening to that pleasant rumble within his chest. 

“As are you,” Maul murmured, muscular arms securing themselves near her hips. He pushed at the pesky garment, tossing the gossamer away from what he desired most. He pressed hot kisses against her inner thighs, sometimes using teeth to graze along her ivory flesh. The closer he moved toward her womanhood, the more eager her moans became, music to his ears. It was the smell that made his head swim — the scent of arousal. With a low grunt, his fingers twisted into her panties, and he quite literally ripped them from her. 

The sound of shredding cloth reverberated across her chambers, and whatever remained, Maul tossed behind him with one swift movement. He pressed closer, one hand lingering at her waist, warm palms skimming across her smooth stomach. Everything he’d yearned for and so much more. Maul pushed her legs apart, tongue delving across her slit and thrusting against her cunt. She tasted divine, and he felt one of her hands knead into his broad shoulder. 

“M-Maul!” Amara squeaked, completely overwhelmed with pleasure, and very quickly, too. No one had ever touched her like this — the Zabrak was her very first. She had trouble sitting upright, so instead, she leaned back, propped up against her elbows. The eager sensation of his tongue working against her clit was incredible, gown having been hiked up to around her torso. “Oh gods,” She moaned, feeling him push farther into her.

Her feelings nearly overwhelmed him with their intensity, though it only spurred him on even more. He wanted to chase after her, make her his very own. Maul wanted to do so much, and if he played his cards right, it could all be done in this one evening. His horns were sharp against her thighs, and the more she squeezed, the more difficult it became not to poke and prod at her. He felt her flinch, his horns piercing her thighs. Maul ignored it for now, lips tightening around her clit, tongue doing the rest of the work with vigorous lapping. 

The Senator was hapless within his strong hands, feeling his palms clasp around the smoother parts near her hip bones. With a heave of his shoulders, his tongue had split past her walls, and her pleasurable cries made him shiver. He was trying his hardest to be gentle, and he knew he would be during their intimacy. But now, it was a more primal side to him — the part that wanted to devour Amara. Maul didn’t stop nor cease, feeling her other hand knead into the sheets at the ledge of the bed. 

With a guttural growl, Maul’s grip tightened, pulling her down against his face with force. She was soaked, though knowing it was all from his doing left him feeling satisfied. He wanted to please her in whatever way he could — worship her, even. Maul hadn’t felt so attached and possessive towards another woman before, and this bond he shared with Amara left their entanglement feeling all the more sacred. With another barrage of suckling and lapping against her slit, he could feel her body tense and shudder underneath his capable hands.

“Oh Maul,” Amara whined, her voice having lifted an octave, high-pitched and needy. “J-Just a little more, please,” She was begging him, now. Maul’s yellow irises grew wider, and he obeyed without question. To deny her would be cruel, and he would not be cruel to her. With another forceful touch against her clit, she came undone for the first time. It was powerful, leaving her quivering against the mattress. Her smaller, dainty hand had wrapped around one of his horns, gently tugging him closer. “Maul,” She moaned loudly, forgetting that it would be more beneficial to remain hushed.

Maul would never get enough of that sound — the sound of her saying his name over and over again, especially during the throes of intimacy. He cleaned her up, and finally rose from between her legs. He felt bad about hurting her, swiping away the blood from where his horns had pierced her legs. It was more than he expected, which worried him. “Are you feeling well?” He’d asked quietly, noticing her soft panting and scarlet skin as she laid against the bed.

“Of course,” Amara replied with a smile, though her gaze was so starstruck, enamored with him entirely. She wanted more, and she wanted it immediately. “I’m feeling excellent.” She breathed, able to feel everything shift as he picked her up. Amara weighed nothing to Maul, pressing her tightly against his chest to let her stand upright. She felt her feet touch solid ground, but Amara wobbled, knees a bit weak from his previous actions. Maul ran his thumb across her lower lip, admiring her in the process.

“You are ravishingly beautiful,” Maul purred with a slight smirk, his head leaning down to press vigorous kisses all along her jaw. His embrace became passionate after a moment or two, and he brushed aside her hair, hand caressing at the nape of her neck. His mind had jumped to the obscene thing to do, sharp teeth grazing near her jugular. The Zabrak began to suck and kiss a little harder, hot breath flaring against her flesh as he began to leave marks.

Soft mewls and moans escaped Amara, who was completely slouched within his arms, one hand caressing across his abdomen and the other teasing the waist of his pants. His actions would most certainly leave vibrant marks and hickey that, if not properly covered, would draw attention. But it felt right — it felt incredible, especially with the careful, passionate way he went about it. His lips pressed against her collarbone, fingers curling into the front of her gown.

“I’ll take it off,” She breathed, feeling his hands creep underneath the gossamer material in order to assist her. He’d had previously considered ripping it off of her, but it was a gown she favored, clearly. It was only polite. 

Maul nearly collapsed at the sight of his Amara, entirely bare before him. Intoxicating and beautiful were understatements — she was a beacon of divinity. Unmatched and ethereal, in his eyes. His large, rough hands roved across her silky skin, reveling in her softness. “Perfection,” His purr was husky, almost like a possessive growl. Maul kissed her, one hand brazenly grabbing at her backside to pull her flush against him. 

“Maul,” Amara whimpered. “I want to see you.” She pleaded against his open-mouthed kiss. The young woman was extremely eager to see her lover unclad for the first time — trace her fingers across every line of his tattoos. He seemed hesitant for unknown reasons, bulky form enveloping her. “Please.”

The Dathomirian chuckled, pressing a soft kiss against her lips before he pulled back just enough for her to see. “Of course, starlight.” He murmured, wondering how she would react to the cybernetics. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but they helped him do and achieve a great many things. Maul removed his trousers, followed by black undergarments and his boots. 

She wouldn’t have noticed them if he did not undress. Amara’s seafoam irises settled upon the cybernetic legs, both of which began just right above each of his knees. The metallic legs themselves seemed incredibly sturdy and of quality craftsmanship, though none of it bothered her. Amara glanced up to meet his eyes, and Maul appeared expectant, as if awaiting her approval and appraisal. 

“You are perfect,” Amara smiled, cupping his strong face within her hands. His jawline was long, sharp enough that she could’ve cut her hands upon it, metaphorically speaking. Even if Maul had more cybernetics, it wouldn’t have changed the way she viewed him or felt about him. 

Maul’s boisterous rumble and growl of satisfaction made her blush, though he’d quickly situated them into a very new and unfamiliar position. Hoisting her up, he settled down against her bed, comfortable within the heaps of downy pillows and fancy blankets. He was still sitting up at an angle, keeping her on top of him, thighs straddling his muscled hips. It was quite the arousing sight to have Amara atop him, her hands pressing against his shoulders. 

“Wait,” He stopped her, visage expressing concern. Grabbing his tunic, he tore a shred of fabric from the ends, trying to swipe away at the blood from her cuts. Maul didn’t want it to impede on anything, though Amara did not seem too bothered. It was entirely an accident — the horns did not make everything simple. “I am terribly sorry.” He sighed, tracing his thumb across the cuts. 

“It’s okay,” Amara smiled, gently shaking her head. “You didn’t mean to.” She wriggled closer, her plush chest pressing against his. She liked being here, and with him being so much bigger than her, the position was pleasurable. Amara leaned in, pressing a kiss against his jaw, and then his lips. A squeak escaped her when he grabbed at her rump, a soft growl leaving his throat as he pushed her up a bit. “Maul,” She whimpered, “Touch me.”

Maul was the compliant one as a large, rough hand groped at her breast, mouth finding its purchase against her collarbone. Her head was at an angle where any noises she made were tantalizingly close to his ear. A soft grunt left him as he left marks within her pale flesh, his anticipation growing. His cock pressed against the back of her thigh, almost painful with how aroused he’d become. He wanted to be inside of her, though Maul did enjoy pleasing Amara and making her squirm beforehand.

“O-Oh,” She blushed, able to feel the throbbing against the back of her thigh. Amara shifted enough, feeling his hands abandon her chest to encircle around her hips. His yellow irises seemed a touch softer this time, and she knew that Maul was going to be gentle with her. Her hands steadied themselves against his chest, fingers gingerly kneading into his broad shoulders. 

“Are you certain?” Maul whispered, giving her a chance to stop, if she wanted. As much as he yearned for this very moment, he would’ve abandoned it if it meant making her both comfortable and happy. His breathing was a bit heavier, rougher than usual, mostly with his mounting anticipation. 

Amara nodded, “Yes,” She replied, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. “I only want you.” Her voice was beautiful in that moment — genuine and confident, sure of what she desired. Maul found it to be attractive, her assured behavior. Her breath hitched within her throat as he lowered her onto his member, stomach churning violently. She appreciated how deliberate and careful he was with her — it made her feel more at-ease. 

The Zabrak rumbled again, pressing soft kisses against her face as he penetrated her, cock pushing past her walls with only slight resistance. He was afraid of hurting her more than he already had, even if the first time was merely an accident, he could see the angry cuts on either side of her inner thighs. Their noises became twined together, his low, baritone grunts and her wispy whines and moans. 

It was certainly quite a lot to handle so suddenly, but Amara didn’t want him to stop until she was fully situated, their hips flush together. “Gods,” She groaned, head tilting forward just a bit. The sensations were unlike any other — overwhelming though pleasurable in the best of ways. It was a bit discomforting with it being her first time, but Maul was most accommodating. She moved atop him, chest rising and falling swiftly. Amara wanted to move, though Maul seemed willing to assist.

His hands seized her hips, kneading into the soft skin there. Her scent was so mesmerizing — arousal, the sweet perfumes she wore, something akin to a floral soap the more he leaned in. Maul went slowly with her, though he seemed surprised when she was the first one to move. The Zabrak held her close, still keeping a grip against her as she began to move back and forth. A shudder of delight rolled down his spine, though he aided her, guiding her back onto his length with each tug.

Amara moaned, attempting to keep her volume a little lower given that others roamed the corridors outside of her chambers. She felt one of Maul’s hands briefly peruse through her blonde locks, threading his fingers through before pressing a hungry kiss against her neck. He could feel her beating pulse pound near his mouth, which made him smirk. His other hand and arm did well to guide her, feeling her pace begin to increase as she rode him. One of her smaller hands splayed out across his sternum, caressing over his inked skin. The other reached for a horn, holding it as if it were a lifeline.

Maul’s sinful purrs and grunts made her shudder, noises only produced by a man pent-up with lustful intuitions. It had been so long, terribly long, but everything felt so right with Amara. Nothing would compare — no being, and no experience. His hips began to collide against hers, cock snapping up inside of her whenever he’d brought her down against him. He was oddly gentle, far more tender with her than anyone else. He buried his face into the crook of her ivory neck, continuing to leave kisses and marks wherever he could reach.

Their quarters were filled with the pleasurable noises of lovemaking, their volume equal in comparison. Amara was soaked between her thighs, able to provide Maul with easier access. She brought herself down upon his member, again and again, her rhythm varying each time. The Zabrak clung to her as if he were going to drown, hand slipping between the valley of her breasts — and he’d pushed her over.

“Oh!” Amara gasped, her back hitting the lush mattress. Sheets and blankets were scattered around her, and now, Maul’s bulky, muscled frame was atop her, between her legs. She was able to slip her legs around his waist this time, whimpering whenever he thrust himself into her. His movements were graceful and languid as he rolled himself into her, strong arms keeping himself propped up. Their lips met feverishly, with Maul unable to focus entirely.

“You are mine,” Maul’s voice became terrifyingly beautiful, husky and needy. It was as loud as the crack of thunder as he continued to thrust into her, yellow irises now open and roving over her. The Zabrak practically snarled, even if they were going at a tender, deliberate pace. At last, his tone finally softened toward the end, especially when both neared their climax. “Mine,” Maul crooned, feeling her hands run across his powerful arms.

Amara shuddered, letting out a high-pitched string of mewls and moans as her first orgasm collided into her. She was practically seeing stars, head lolled back against the mound of blankets that cradled her. She felt his hand slip underneath her chin, making sure that she was looking at him. Once more, his searing gaze never failed to burn right through her, especially as she came. It was an intense thing, though Maul followed suit not long after she did.

His physique quivered, a snarl being released as he allowed himself to let go. Maul did not even cease to consider the consequences or think of what could happen — he spilled his seed inside of her, back slightly arched when it finally hit him. His muscles tensed and flexed, breath steadying from its former strained state. He let himself stay that way even after both of them had come, lingering until he could compose himself. 

Maul remained above her, broad and imposing, though his demeanor was nothing short of affectionate. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against her lips, feeling her legs untwine from around his body. They came to rest on either side of him, propped up in V-positions. Her chest was evening out with steady breaths, seafoam irises wide and fixated upon him. The gravity of what they had done was not lost upon the Zabrak, but he did not want anyone else. With a soft grunt, he removed himself off of her, rolling down into bed, against the pillows.

Amara blushed, moving out of bed to find one of her night robes instead. Glancing toward the illuminated vanity, she saw just how much he’d done to her neck, collarbone, and shoulders. There were marks everywhere — some darker and others flourishing against her pale skin. It would be difficult to hide some of these, though she didn’t want to worry about it for now. 

From her bed, Maul was staring at her, enraptured by her beauty. He was still in disbelief that he was so lucky to have her, someone as wretched as himself. He sighed, moving out of the covers and toward her, instead. Strong, muscled arms twined around her from behind, pulling her back against him. “Are you feeling well?” Maul uttered, knowing he’d done quite a bit. It was best to make sure, to ease his mind. 

“Absolutely,” Amara beamed, twisting around within his arms to clasp her hands around his neck. Her expression was that of total adoration and devotion, a sentiment that Maul wouldn’t be able to let go of. The way she looked at him was unlike anything he’d seen before. The golden-haired girl pressed soft kisses all along his sharp jawline, as much as she could reach. “Did you …” She hesitated.

Maul smirked, sharp teeth flashing in what was an amused grin. “I enjoyed myself.” He reassured her, one calloused hand at the small of her back, and the other moving to cup her sweet little visage within his palm. A rough thumb would draw over her cheek, tracing along underneath her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. “You are everything,” The Zabrak rumbled, his gaze narrowing down upon her — it was assertive, serious. 

She blushed, leaning into the hand that held her face so protectively. It was soothing, though Maul was always a very tenacious and ferocious man. He could be terrifying if he wanted to be — Amara knew this. She kissed his palm, leaning forward until her head was nestled against his warm chest. The temperature that often radiated from him was always comforting. The heat was familiar to her, now. “So are you.” Amara whispered.

There was yet another growl of approval, his visage drawn into something that seemed content, aside from his typical sneer or scowl. Maul let her lounge against him for as long as she desires, despite his very disrobed state. He wanted to stay with her through the night, but if the wrong person came through her doors, it would all be abandoned. Maul didn’t want to risk it. He felt her curvaceous form through the thin robe, his other hand kneading at her hips. “Starlight.” Maul sighed.

Amara smiled once more, leaning off of him in order to speak. “Why don’t we have a bath?” She suggested. It would make her feel better, refreshed, and if Maul joined her, it would make her overjoyed. The Zabrak did not object to her inquiry, and he seemed to be getting ideas again, unbeknownst to Amara. 

“As you wish, Senator.” Maul’s husky, dark baritone made her skin break out with goosebumps. Even if she’d heard it so many times before, this time was teasing, ruefully playful. He stooped down, lips pressing against her forehead. If his past self saw this, he would be making a mockery of it all. However, Maul had evolved. He was far more powerful than ever before — he knew this. And now, he had something to protect, something precious. Maul would never take that so lightly. 

With a girly giggle, Amara tugged away from him, moving toward the refresher with a smile. It was a most luxurious space, the tile all dark and glittering. There were braziers lit along the walls to provide enough lighting, though just like her bedroom, everything was dimly lit. It provided a steamy atmosphere, a mood that hadn’t quite left her yet, anyways. She turned on the water, keeping the temperature warm. The marble basin filled swiftly.

Maul savored each moment he spent with Amara. None of it had ever gone to waste, especially now that their relationship had transcended a mutual yearning. He was thankful to have her, even if he wouldn’t ever say it outloud — he was cowardly when it came to admittance of emotions. Maul knew it, too. The Zabrak huffed, peering toward the night sky before trailing after Amara. She was putting all sorts of things in the water, which made his nose wrinkle in distaste. Fancy soaps and scents that he didn’t care for. 

“You are going to make me smell like some … Politician.” Maul groveled, moving up behind Amara, hands traveling to the silken tie of her bathrobe. “Cruel of you, truly.” He teased, kissing against her shoulder before tugging the robe off of her. The Zabrak had quite the enhanced level of stamina, and even then, he was still in the mood for more. Of course, Maul wouldn’t do anything that Amara didn’t want.

Amara giggled, blushing when he peeled her robe away from her. Anything sultry he did didn’t fail to make her flustered, no matter what. Feeling the garment leave her, the draft made her skin prickle. Maul’s arms left her, and he slipped into the soapy water with a heavy sigh. His visage was contorted into one of mild amusement as he sniffed at the water once or twice. Amara found it both endearing and sweet, in a way. 

She followed suit, sinking down in front of him. Amara briefly dunked her head in the water — the curls disappeared, flattening against her head. It did not take long for Maul to tug her closer, keeping her back pressed against his chest. The newfound position was nice, considering their differences in size. He was plenty taller than her, twice her size in muscle, anyway. Maul lounged back, one hand draped around the edge of the tub, the other gently caressing through Amara’s damp tresses.

“May I ask you something?” Amara chimed, catching Maul’s attention as soon as the words were spoken. “Well, several things, if you do not mind.” She bit at her lower lip, slumped back against his chest. 

Maul chuckled, his eyes half-lidded to show contentment. It was one of the first times that she’d seen him so laidback, which made her heart flutter within her chest. “You need only ask, starlight.” His roaming hand did not cease, continuously stroking through her hair, caressing along the curve of her shoulder blade. 

“What happened to your legs?” Amara pondered, feeling him tense up underneath her. She became nervous, afraid that she had touched a nerve. However, Maul settled, knowing that if he became enraged now, it would ruin the moment — ruin everything. So, he tried his hardest to relax.

“They were dismembered during a duel.” A simple answer — it was the truth, though missing several important chunks of detail. The Zabrak did not want to discuss what had happened on Naboo. It was best if he left it alone, for now, at least. The mere thought of Kenobi taking his legs from him made his blood boil.

“Oh,” She frowned, her fingertips tracing along his tattooed arm, the one that was closest to her. Maul involuntarily moved closer for her, noticing her apologetic expression. “I’m sorry.” Amara murmured, feeling as if she’d asked the wrong question.

“No,” Maul crooned, his head tilting forward to press a kiss against her neck. “Do not apologize.” His alluring voice was most reassuring this time, and he moved back once more, horned head resting against the smooth, dark walls. Maul enjoyed listening to her talk and ask questions — it was delightfully sweet. He continued to stroke her hair, feeling her lean back into his touch.

Amara soon held onto his hand, their fingers lazily intertwined. The silence was most comfortable this time, only the sound of disturbed water and their breathing. She was contemplating what to ask him. “Maul,” She began, “When your work here is finished, where will you go?” She couldn’t fathom him leaving, going somewhere dangerous, never to return. That terrifying thought of him leaving her ate away constantly. 

Maul sat up a little straighter, knowing the gravity of her question. He sometimes pondered this himself. “I am not going anywhere,” He murmured, voice becoming concerned and stoic. The Zabrak shook his head. “Even if I complete my mission, I shall not leave you.” He paused. “Amara,” He spoke near her ear, their proximity becoming extremely close in a matter of moments. “My heart is yours.” Maul whispered, and it was his own version of those three sacred words. 

In truth, Maul did intend to take her with him to Mandalore — he just hadn’t gotten that far yet. Until the Shadow Collective was fully prepared and until Dathomir was free of the Separatists, he waited here on Coruscant. The Senate was a dangerous place for Amara to be with the Chancellor in-charge, and if Palpatine could read her mind, he would know of her fraternization with him. It was best if they relocated, and Maul wanted to show her so much more than just the dusky, overpopulated pit that was Coruscant. 

Tears stung her eyes at Maul’s captivating words, though nothing fell. It was incredible to know that he cared enough to not leave her behind, even through his occasional callousness and affiliations as a Sith and crime lord. Amara’s hand squeezed his, and once more, he tugged her back, flush against his muscular frame. She felt a kiss against her shoulder, a hand perusing through her hair again. 

Maul’s free hand moved, gingerly stroking along her curves, against her chest. He was perfectly happy this way, his face pressing near the crook of her neck. The Zabrak reveled in their closeness, continuing to shower her in affection. He was considerate, hand relocating once more in order to caress along her spine. It couldn’t have been a more blissful moment for the pair, peaceful and as serene as ever.

Amara gently nuzzled her face against his, careful to avoid the horns this time. He kissed her on the mouth, as best as he could reach with his position. She lifted their intertwined hands, pressing a kiss against his knuckles as a nobleman would have. It made Maul smirk, yellow irises alight with amusement and a complete sense of ease. The crimson halos that typically surrounded the gold seemed to have calmed, as if subdued for the time being. 

“Are you getting tired, starlight?” The hour was rather late, and Maul wanted her to have rest. It was a surprise that she hadn’t vocalized her exhaustion yet. When he received a drowsy nod as an answer, he finished cleaning himself off, stepping out of the tub and onto fuzzy, frilly mats. He dried himself off, picking Amara up from the water, making sure she was dry enough. Maul caressed her cheek, helping her into the night robe she wore before. 

Amara held onto him as he picked her up, nestled against his chest. She cozied up to him, able to hear the steady pounding of his twin hearts, a noise she could easily drift off to. Maul made sure to settle her down into the blankets, retrieving his own undergarments in the process. He did not put on a robe, joining her in bed not a moment later. Amara immediately crawled towards him, cheek resting against his bare chest. 

Maul twined his arm around her, knowing how dangerous it was to stay. Yet, just to look upon her, the way she clung to him … The Zabrak couldn’t leave her. He would stay until the first light of morning this time, cradling her against his own form. He sighed, preparing to settle in for a long night. Maul was the nocturnal sort, so attempting to sleep like this would be a challenge. Nonetheless, Amara’s presence was soothing — her laying so close to him could’ve lulled him into slumber.

“Mm, goodnight, Maul,” She drawled, “I love you.” He could hear her mumble, drowsy and halfway asleep already. Maul blinked, canting his head to one side. Had she really just muttered … She was nearly asleep, which made sense for her slip-up, though Maul could hardly believe it, even then. It was an exhilarating feeling, to be told such a thing. So fickle, yet so very meaningful. His chest vibrated with a soft chuckle as he pushed her hair away from her eyes. Maul still could not fathom how breathtakingly beautiful she was, how perfect and flawless — and she supposedly loved him. 

“Goodnight, starlight.” The Dathomirian cradled her close, hand poised near her hair, sharp nails trailing through over and over again. He listened to her slow, steady breathing, feeling her occasionally wriggle and adjust, hands still clasping at his chest. Maul couldn’t force it from his head, now. His gaze fluttered toward the ceiling, toward the closed curtains that billowed with the breeze, and then back to her. He could not imagine an existence where she was not a part of it.

Strange how his sentiments shifted from the first time he’d met her. 

Maul did not close his eyes just yet, and instead, watched her closely. She was very much deep into slumber now, a most blissful sight that he could imagine himself getting used to. His lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, before he reclined completely, deciding to turn onto his side. Amara was tucked into the crook of his body, quite the clingy little thing, especially during rest. Maul did not mind, though. Her proximity to him just made everything comfortable, more relaxed. 

Before Maul himself could succumb to the darkness of slumber, he too found himself murmuring, “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading & supporting my writing! I’m gonna keep writing more oneshots until my ideas are completely exhausted. Maulmara is singlehandedly curing my depression. I’m happy that people are enjoying it! Kudos & comments are loved but never required. Stay tuned for more! ❤️


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